A twisted smile spread across his face as he leaned in closer, his hot, alcohol-laced breath over her. He pressed his nose to her neck, inhaling deeply before pulling back slightly to growl in her ear, "You can't run away anymore." he slurred, his...
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15 Days later
Fifteen days later, she was married. Married to the man she loved. The memory of that night was still very clear, as if it had happened just moments ago. The decision was made in the heat of the moment, without waiting for anyone's permission or approval. He had snuck her out through the back door, his grip on her wrist tight, as they rushed through the door.
Suspiciously, his driver had already been waiting for them, as if he had known all along what was about to happen. She didn't asked any questions; there was no time for that. They drove in silence, the tension thick in the air, until they arrived at the family court.
The ceremony was quick, almost too simple for something so monumental. They signed the papers, exchanged vows in hushed voices, and registered their marriage, all within the span of an hour. It wasn't the grand wedding, but it was real, binding, and, most importantly, it was with him.
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After their hasty wedding, they never returned to his family’s house. Instead, he rented a small 1BHK apartment in an isolated area, far from the city, in the middle of nowhere. The apartment was modest—barely furnished, with only the essentials. But it was quiet, and it was theirs.
The morning after their marriage, he left the apartment early, telling her he needed to inform his family and gather their belongings. She had hoped, in some small corner of her heart, that things might go smoothly. Maybe his family would come to accept their marriage, even if reluctantly.
Hours passed, and the silence in the apartment grew heavier with each minute. She tried to distract herself, moving aimlessly from room to room, but her mind kept drifting back to him, wondering how the confrontation with his family was going.
When he finally returned, the look on his face shattered any hope she had clung to. His expression was a mixture of frustration and defeat. He barely made it through the door before collapsing onto the worn-out sofa, his head in his hands.
“They’re furious,” he said, his voice heavy with exhaustion. “They were so angry, they threw me out. They said I’m no longer welcome in the house, that I’ve shamed them... and they’ll never forgive me for marrying someone else.”
Her heart sank at his words. The weight of guilt pressed down on her chest, almost suffocating. This was her fault. If it weren’t for her, he wouldn’t have lost his family, his home, everything he had known his entire life.
She moved closer to him, her hand hovering over his shoulder, unsure of how to offer comfort. The words she wanted to say felt hollow, empty. How could she possibly make this right? How could she console him when she was the reason for his suffering?
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “This is all because of me...”
He shook his head, meeting her gaze with a sadness he couldn't hide. "It’s not your fault. I chose to marry you," he said quietly, his voice calm despite the storm inside him. Taking her hands in his, he added, "You could never be the reason for my pain. You've brought me peace, even in the worst of times."
